CHAPTER 27
The formalities proceeded smoothly, or so it seemed. Grace maintained her composure, her expression neutral, her voice measured. Yet, something felt off. The Morphines, Juliet's family were distant, their interactions strained. Even when Juliet spoke to them, they responded stiffly, their words careful, as if weighed before being spoken.
Dinner was soon served, and the rich aroma of spiced soup filled the grand hall. The table was adorned with an abundance of delicacies, a feast fit for royalty. Conversation bubbled around them, voices mixing with the clinking of silverware.
"So, Prince Quicke," Queen Jonah's voice rang through the hall, light and curious. "Tell me, how does it feel to rule such a prominent kingdom?" She delicately placed a piece of lettuce in her mouth, her gaze expectant.
Grace, still cutting into her meat, did not meet her eyes. "Good," she replied simply.
Jonah's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "I must say, it's a pleasure to finally be in your kingdom. I've heard stories about your strength, your reputation. And I must admit, the height of the people here is overwhelming. I'm literally the shortest person in the room."
Grace remained unfazed. "It is my duty to protect my kingdom," she said flatly, her tone offering no invitation for further discussion. "I am pleased to know the world recognizes our impact."
Jonah faltered, her attempts to draw Grace's attention failing one after another.
A tense silence settled over the table.
"Lady Morphine," Queen Judith's voice broke the quiet, her tone warm but probing. "Tell us, how was your journey? And I must say, your daughter certainly takes after your beauty."
Lady Morphine, Juliet's mother, was strikingly elegant, her golden hair framed her delicate features, her pale skin flawless. Yet, despite her composed appearance, there was something hesitant in the way she held herself. Each time a question was directed at her, she would glance at Queen Jonah before responding, as though seeking approval.
Grace and Juliet both noticed it.
Lady Morphine exhaled softly. "The journey was…" She paused briefly, her fingers tightening around her fork. "The best I could ask for. Your officials were quite hospitable. I was treated well."
Queen Judith merely smiled in response, but Grace saw the subtle shift in her expression, she had noticed the hesitation too.
Grace leaned forward slightly, her voice deceptively casual. "I was told you were married, Queen Jonah. Where is your husband?"
Jonah straightened, her expression immediately brightening. "Yes, Parkston will be joining us in a few hours. He had a duty to fulfill, as assigned by my father." Her voice carried pride.
The name sent cold chills through Grace's chest. Parkston.
She hesitated, gripping the edge of the table, struggling to mask the sudden flood of memories, the whispered promises he had made, the laughter, the warmth of his hand in hers. Did he even search for her!
She swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. "Oh, Parkston," she said at last, forcing a small smile. "He sounds like a fine man. We all look forward to meeting him."
Jonah beamed, oblivious.
"Juliet," Jonah's voice took on a teasing edge, her gaze settling on her cousin. "You've been rather quiet. Don't tell me you feel out of place? That's not like you. I've always known you to be loud, quite the talkative one."
Grace coughed sharply, choking on her drink.
Juliet stiffened, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She was used to her cousin's jabs, but not in front of her new family.
"It's only respectful to remain quiet while eating," she said evenly.
Her mother nodded in agreement. "She is right."
Jonah, however, did not respond.
A suffocating silence stretched between them. The only sounds left were the clinking of cutlery and the occasional sip of wine.
After dinner, the guards escorted the guests to their chambers, including the Morphines and Queen Jonah.
Only Grace and Juliet remained at the dining table. For a long moment, they observed each other, both deep in thought.
Juliet finally broke the silence. "Something is wrong," she murmured. "My mother seems distracted, my father barely spoke. I know them, Prince Quicke. This is not like them."
Grace exhaled. "You should speak to them privately. Ask them directly if something troubles them. It may be nothing, just exhaustion from the journey." She paused, meeting Juliet's uncertain gaze. "Do not let it consume you. Get some rest. And be ready to welcome your cousin's husband."
Juliet hesitated, then nodded, rising to leave.
Grace waited until she was out of earshot before calling, "Robert."
The commander stepped forward from his place near the entrance. "Yes, Prince Quicke?"
"Follow Lady Juliet. Listen to everything she discusses with her family. I want every detail."
Robert nodded sharply. "Understood."
Grace remained at the table long after he left, her mind restless. There was something wrong with the Morphines.
Hours later, a carriage rolled through the palace gates.
Queen Jonah's excitement was palpable. "He's here."
The royal family and officials gathered outside, standing tall, exuding power and presence.
The carriage door opened, and Parkston stepped out.
His polished black boots met the ground with firm precision. His uniform was crisp, adorned with the insignia of his station, a mark of his unwavering loyalty. As he approached, Grace's breath hitched.
He had changed, he's got broader shoulders now and sharper features, but his piercing blue eyes remained the same.
And then, the scent. The same cologne. The same one she had known all those years ago.
He never changes. He is always devoted to what he loves.
Parkston removed his cap, bowing in greeting to King Charlenugo and Queen Judith before turning to Grace.
As he neared, something shifted in his demeanor. A flicker of something recognizable. He had felt this presence before, but where?
Grace forced herself to remain steady. "It's nice to finally meet you, Parkston," she said, but her voice betrayed her. It was not as composed as it should have been.
Parkston's gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary. "Prince Quicke," he said, his tone measured. "The honor is mine. I have heard much about you, and yet, standing before you now… it feels surreal."
He extended his hand for a handshake.
Grace hesitated, just briefly before taking it. "You will enjoy your time here," she said carefully. "Welcome to the great kingdom of Alagascar."
Then, as if the moment never happened, he turned to Jonah, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Grace felt something ugly coil in her chest.
Robert, standing nearby, observed the exchange with narrowed eyes. He had noticed Grace's reaction, the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled ever so slightly.
Does he admire Parkston? Robert murmured under his breath. Is Prince Quicke… interested in men?
The thought was absurd. Impossible.
And yet, there was something in the way Grace looked at Parkston.
…
The coronation was only hours away.
The kingdom was alive with celebration, banners soared, fireworks lit the sky, guests poured into the palace. Officials prepared for the ceremony, their movements precise and rehearsed.
In her chamber, Grace stared at her reflection.
Tonight would mark the beginning of a new era.